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User blog:Eärendil Heir to Rivendell/My Backstory: LOTR
They asked for my story. ' '''And I gave them my story. ' 'I’ll give it to you too. ' '''Eärendil It started as a child. I was young, and Arwen was younger. I always knew I was different. I could read others’ minds, calm them and let silver light flow under their skin. I could lift a river into a bridge, and let the wind carry me on a wisp of air. Nobody else could do what I did. And I was calm, helping and healing with my abilities. But there were times when it was all too dark for me. ' '“Eärendil! You are disallowed from exiting the halls.” “But father-” I protested “No. Go home. Better yet, just go away.” “Then why does Arwen-” “DO NOT SPEAK OF HER! Just go.” You can see what I faced. Bit by bit, year after year, I fade, crumble, disintegrate into mist. I hid it. I had to, as the heir to the great elven city of Rivendell. I couldn’t be weak, nor could I be useless. Or broken. I was just a mirror in shards. I grew this way, snapped and broken into what couldn’t survive. At least that’s what they thought. ' '''I prevailed, locked away till even those most beloved forgot me. Arwen, my own sister, didn’t hear of me after the memory of me had slipped beyond her mind’s reaches. ' 'Elrond, my father, was cruel, but his reasoning was correct. He tried to hide my abnormalities from the world. When he couldn’t, I was just a mistake, a piece that didn’t fit in the puzzle of life. I was around 1,500 years old then, still relatively young. But I hardened beyond my years. And soon, it was time to make the decision that made me who I am. ' '''To leave. ______ “Eärendil, is that you? You aren’t supposed to be outside now.” “So you haven’t forgotten me, Arwen. Let’s keep it that way.” ' '“What do you mean?” “I’m going away. For good. I can’t survive here. I must go.” “Please don’t, at least not today.” I give in. She’s beginning to raise her voice, and we’re being loud. But since I’m staying, there’s one thing left for me to do. “Come. There is one last thing for me to show you.” I say softly. She follows willingly. We stroll through the gardens, filled with plants better cared for than I was. There’s a cliff at one end, forged of solid stone: or is it? I stop just a foot from the cliff in a spot next to plants flowering with pale blue flowers with pleasant aromas, sweet galeras, more commonly known to the elves as athelas. A password I say softly; like I never would otherwise. ' '“Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima!” I whisper. A path opens into the wall as Arwen gasps, seeing me do the impossible. But she follows me through the rock face until we come out onto a bluff one near a waterfall that silently tumbles down, crashing next to Rivendell. The stars are glimmering in synchrony as I raise my hands to the sky, revealing a flurry of shooting stars dancing across the sky in flight, as I will soon. We stay there silently as I guide the moon to its place as the sun rises. We return as if nothing happened. ' '------''' 'Today. ' 'Everything’s ready. I just have to leave. But no, there are still things to do. I’m going out with a bang. ' 'I storm the hall. Only Elrond is there, as usual. Every day’s a slow day in the court of a peaceful city. ' '''“What are you doing out of your room? Return there at once!” Elrond says abruptly, standing at my appearance. “No.” I say, with an air of nonchalance I never knew I had. We argue for a while, both raising our voices in dissonance as I near my time. As expected, he turns to a pleading old elf after just a little while. ' '“Please, Eärendil, you are the heir! Do not leave now!” “Do you expect me to stay and further endure the hardships placed upon me? No, I leave! Expect not my return ere long, Elrond.” This ends now. I turn with a sweeping movement, and as he tries to follow me and teach me reason, I block him with a field of my silvery light that solidifies on contact. He begins to collapse, but my heart is kind enough that I give him some of my strength. At the last moment I turn. ' '“Elrond, take better care of Arwen than you did me. I’ll know.” He is sobbing now. I whistle once. A grey stallion, per my order, gallops out of the wood. He slows just enough for me to mount, and off we go. Towards the mountains we fly on black hooves, faster than the birds above and the song of the Earth below. My silver hair blows freely in the wind, and my sapphire blue eyes do not turn as freedom is granted as I fly through the open gates of Rivendell. '------' I am home. The forest beckons as I weave my way through the trees with the stallion, Mithroch, with me. He is light-footed and knows his paths well. There: a stand of trees perfectly spaced. My hands instinctively rise, suspended in the breeze. The stand braids itself together, making what was trees a living home. Inside, it’s well-made. Not a draft enters the space, and it’s roomy. Space for the rare visitor or suffering wanderer, and filled with safety catches for intruders. The staircase to the upper level is only made from my raising a pool of water into a stair, and the trees manipulate themselves to trip an intruder and give them a couple frights. My power is reflected in my home, with the trees as a symbol of the Earth and life, and the other elements incorporated into the design. But I need to hide now. This is done with light, and hints of shadow that would trap even the strongest of Rivendell. ' '''Not good. Guards, looking for me. And… is that another city’s forces? Yes, it is. My father has convinced Mirkwood to search. They won’t find me. But they’re too close. I scare them off with a few tricks of light and shadow and some help from Mithroch. But someone’s hurt. No, not someone. An important someone is hurt. Nobody is there, so there’s the chance they’ve gone to get help. I’m going in. ' '------' '''Legolas I can only feel pain. It’s dark all around me, and I don’t know what’s happening. Wait. I saw a spark of light. A soothing voice begins to speak and sings in a language I know. I don’t know the lyrics, but it is quiet and calm. ''' '''More light. I feel a hand, soft to the touch, stroking my head and singing in that soothing voice I think I know. She speaks: “If you can hear me, reach up to touch my hand on your head.” I do, drawing rare energy into a quavering hand. She speaks again. ' '“You will be alright. Just rest and I will help you when you wake.” After some unknown amount of time, I find myself awake. Blinking, I sit up from a soft bed: then wish I didn’t. Aching pains sear through me and force me to lie back down. I take the quiet moment to survey my surroundings: it’s a house, but unlike any I’ve ever seen. The walls are woven from trees, so the person must be older than me. The door opens, and I squirm to see who opens it. Not a good idea. I groan from the pain, and she hurries to me. It’s a face I’ve seen somewhere before. Then it strikes me like lightning does a tree: she’s the one Lord Elrond had pleaded with us to look for. ' '------''' '''A week after my awakening, I am able to sit up and converse freely with her. She says her name is Eärendil, and she has the same sapphire blue eyes and silver hair of the girl I was looking for. She’s the one. And she is beautiful, even for an elf. She can speak my language, Sindarin, and admits that her past is one she needed to escape. I don’t understand, though: why would the heir to a city’s throne run away? She explains it all, the history, the good, the bad, and the results. I asked her, “Are you happier now, away from your family.?” She answered, “Elrond is not my father any longer. Arwen is worthy though, she is who I worry for.” I am beginning to understand. She is independent. She trades with passing Rangers, and plans to be one later on. Eärendil is one of the strongest people I know. Mentally and physically. Her build is lean, and she scales trees that are easily scraping the skies for sweet fruits. Her skill with any weapon, especially the bow and arrow, is unmatchable. I’ve seen her hit a target an inch wide in the very center 3 times straight from a good distance. But she is broken. She has confessed to me about how she cannot believe in herself, and how she is useless and unworthy of any title. I will not judge her for it though, for she is the jewel of Rivendell, whether she resides there or not. ' '------''' 'I’m able to walk again in the woods of these mountains, and Eärendil accompanies me. She always takes her bow and arrows with her, and is a nervous wreck. She pulls the string taut at any movement. She says that it’s just that she’s worried of more guards, searching for us both, but I know better. She’s trying to protect me. I don’t have any weapons, and I’m still relatively weak and can’t run. Being caught in the open now would be the death of us both. ' 'But I think there might be something between us. Her beauty has captured me, unlike any other elf I’ve seen. I do truly believe I have fallen for her. But now is no time for her to think of any chemistry between her and me. She must focus on keeping safe and healthy, as well as watching over her home. The time has nearly come for me to return home to Mirkwood, and I plan not to reveal Eärendil’s whereabouts. She wants her home to stay a secret kept by the Rangers and myself. She has asked that I return if I can to see her, and I will be sure to. ' '------' '''Eärendil He is healing quickly, and it will soon be time for him to go home. I have asked him to stay a little longer, under the idea of making sure that he is in no pain. The truth? I am pleased with him. I think there is some connection coming between us for the better. I know not of what it is, but it truly is magnificent. I could almost believe it is love. But I can tell that he is not ready. Neither am I. He plans to visit when he can, and with that I will be happy. I know he will not tell a soul of my home, and my history. I will have no trouble admitting my care for him is due to love. ' '~2000 years afterward ~ It’s time. ' '''They could be worthy. ' 'I’ve been observing Elrond from afar, and he rules as a fair and just leader. Now is the judgement of whether he is worthy or not. I have awaited this day for many years now. ' 'I ride once more upon Mithroch, who carries me swiftly through the glades and the forests as if he knows of my haste. The gates are no longer open as they were many years ago, but as the Grey Lady of Rivendell, my call of Edro, Edro,! opens the gates for me. Hushed whispers gather about from the crowd I have drawn, probably from my attire, since I wear a silvery cloak with the hood pulled low over my brow. I smile. Nobody knows my identity. I send Mithroch into his old wood, and walk casually into the hall. ' '------' 'He has been on the brink of shattering. He collapsed at my sight, and Arwen was shocked. I never realized that she would grow to be such a wild spirit, though. Like me, she spends her days at the rivers and streams, or in the woods. But there are differences that come through. She’s never used a bow before, and she can’t ride very well. But she is still young, and will learn. My father is different. He has finally understood that he cannot hide my abilities. Whether he will cope with them is another story. We stood and silently watched each other for what felt like an eternity. Finally, three words echo through the silence, words from a father longing for my return. ' '“I am sorry.” ' '''“Do you expect me to believe you? If so, change that.” He looks down. The sorrow in his eyes change my view, and I could be convinced that he was truly disconsolate over my flight from Rivendell. But no, how can I so easily believe this after all he has done? He repeats: “I am sorry. For everything. For every wrong word, every unjust action, every time I tried to hide your unique power, one you used for the best. I am sorry.” I am touched, though there are many miles yet until the chasm between us is bridged. I’ll give him the chance. He has changed. “I guess I was right, then. You did deserve the chance. But I won’t stay. I will visit, and I will inherit this city’s throne, but I will no longer reside here. I have another home, another life. I am not your daughter any longer.” '------' We part that afternoon. I wish to see my old homes. The river disappoints, though. The fish that used to swim about my feet have disappeared, never to return to their dwellings in the mud, and the water is murky. That can be fixed, though. My control clears the dirt from the water, turning it its clear blue sheen once more. The fish will return in some time. I stay there in the rushing water of Greyflood, but soon grow tired of it. My leave is granted by the water, effortlessly rising into a glassy bridge that would hold the heaviest of loads. I cross it, and it drops at my wish. ''' '''The forests of Rivendell lie ahead, and I walk through them. I reminiscence of the day I first ran through these hills, the day I shot an arrow through a tree, the day that I learned to control the leaves of the trees and the wind blowing through them. This is one place that has not changed since my flight. I can’t help but let the wind lift me a few inches above the ground and let the floor rise to meet me. This brings back memories. Ones like my final conversation with Arwen. It’s time to truly see Rivendell. It has not changed. It’s as if Rivendell has been trapped in time without me. The stones may have worn, and the colors may have faded, but the city’s spirit is still wild, perhaps more than since I left. The stars are unchanged; their light still illuminates the city in a peaceful manner. This is my only home in the city, and this is my chance to cherish it. ' '------''' '''Legolas I knew she was coming. I knew when, too. On that last visit, I was talking to her about the happenings in Rivendell when she abruptly asked about the rulings of her father. She decided that it was time almost immediately after I gave her news of her home. It was agreed that I would arrive there a day before her, to disassociate with each other. I was fast in my approach, and did not rest through the night like I thought I might. She arrived two days afterward. She would never be recognized, even by her kin. I chose to avoid her during her arrival, but I know where she will go. There is a large ledge off a cliff facing Rivendell, but it is near impossible to access. If I know anything about her, then that’s where she’ll go. ' '''Sunset. She’ll be here anytime now. I scaled the cliff to the ledge, which is harder than I thought it would be. I wonder how she’ll manage the climb. But then again, she’s different from others. They don’t even normally attempt to climb this cliff, let alone to this secluded ledge. She’ll have her own ways of reaching this place. But the climb was worth it. The scarlet red glare of the sinking sun mixing with the hues of purple and blue make the full moon glow a spectrum of colors. I forget to stay hidden and meander out to sit on the ledge. I regret it later when she sits silently beside me. Eärendil asks me, ' '''“You climbed, I suppose?” “Yes. Though you didn’t. How do you manage to be so...” “Different?” Eärendil laughs, a sound similar to the rushing of a stream in Mirkwood I used to visit. “It’s just natural for me. I mean, different is easy when you are the only one with power as strong and uncontrollable as mine.” ' '“You aren’t alone, you know. There is another person out there like you.” “ Do you KNOW one? Personally, and not through word of mouth?” “Know him? I am him. I just keep it hidden.” She gasps. It takes only a few seconds for her eyes to meet mine for the first time tonight. In my mind, I can hear her. “What next, you’re a telepath too?” Eärendil cuts the channel to test me. ' '“Yes.” I transmit into her mind. She is visibly pleased, and smiles before she realizes again that she’s not alone. ' '“Do you want to fly?” She blurts out, then turns red and looks away. ' '“Fly? But how? Neither of us has wings, though.” I’m confused. The most we can do is fall. ' '''Shes stands to face me, and I stand too. A dim flash, and instead of the silver-haired girl I am used to, a majestic horse stands instead. But this is no ordinary horse. She has a grey coat, lighter than Mithroc’s, and a silvery mane that shines in moonlight like mithril, the purest dwarven silver. Her sapphire eyes are unchanged, and a light-tipped horn glows through the dark of this night. Her wings are ones like a bird’s, and the feathers that contour it seems lighter than the air itself. She flaps them once, twice, and her horn glows again. ' '''“What are you?” I ask incredulously. She smiles, one that is too familiar to mistake. “What are you is the same question. We are in our second form, one called an alicorn. We can fly like a bird, and do more than our hands ever could with our horns. It’s a form only we can assume. Now, that flight? Don’t worry, I’ll guide you an updraft.” How could I refuse? I trust her more than anyone else in this land, and so with a light heart, we both leaped off the ledge, hoping our grey wings would catch us before we hit the ground. There was no reason to worry, though. With one flap of our wings, we shot upwards into the sky among the stars, and we flew higher and higher until we had seen all of Middle Earth at once. ' '“Can we be this high up?” I ask cautiously. Another laugh and smile. She shoots farther up still towards the moon, now glowing its pure light as normal. I follow, unsure of her motives. Then we break through a layer of dark side by side, and she begins to drop slowly. We land. ' '“Wh-where are we?” I have never seen these white trees before, and the ground is powdery, like the finest sand. ' '“The moon. I want you to meet another alicorn, one that cannot leave here, and one that is trapped in her form. ' '''We walk together, stirring small clouds of the powder off the ground, and walk past the trees. We reach a small pillar, with a figure chained to the top. She is indeed an alicorn, and is suspended as though she is immobile. We fly to the top, which turns out to be a large platform, with only the chained alicorn and a tree in the center. She floats down, and tries to come to us, but the chain makes her gasp in pain. Eärendil shot forward, and hugged her tightly. Then, they turned to me. ' '“Come, Legolas. This is Luna, my soul sister, and friend. She was banished to the moon by her older sister, one that practically hated her.” ' 'We sit under a lone tree that is within Luna’s range on the platform, and talk freely. Luna explains her story, and I sympathize with her. I know another who faced her plight. We stay until the end of the night when Luna implored us to come again to ease her sorrow, and Eärendil immediately agrees. We dive through the barrier, and land back in the ledge from where we left. We immediately transform back into our primary form, as elves of Middle Earth. ' 'We have arrived in time to watch the sunrise and starset, a time we will always remember. We stood in front of one another, our hands entwined inseparably. The romance that coursed through our minds and bodies was one that was inevitable between us. Our eyes, hers of sapphire blue and mine of deep grey drew us into each other without any hesitation. I will never need an explanation to identify that wondrous feeling as I held her in my arms. ' '''That starset was our first kiss. '------' Eärendil After that amazing night, I have felt lighter than a feather. It’s as if I could fly for the rest of my life, and never touch the ground. But it is not time for silly dreams and love. I have errands to attend to, and promises to keep. But all too soon, it is time to return home. But the night is left, and Arwen a promise to keep. I had said that I would stay through this night, and leave the next morning. It might have majorly screwed up my plans of meeting Aragorn to discuss our orc hunting patterns, a Ranger’s common sport to keep the dreadful creatures at a minimum, this season, but I’ve broken enough to have my conscience prick me this time. But I regretted it. ' '“Arwen, you asked me to stay for a PARTY?!” “Yes, why?” was her all but innocent smirk and retort. I groan. It’s about time for her to start catching up on all her missed opportunities of taunting me with everything I hate. But it’s too late now. I just might survive this betrayal if… yes, he is here. Legolas must have seen me, since he came over a little later and handed me a glass of wine. ' '“Drink. It won’t be as painful that way.” he says with a smile. He’s one of the few that know that my main allergen is crowds, and it’s worse when they’re probably talking about me. I smile, accepting the glass. I will not be getting drunk tonight. The first chance I get, I leave the glass on a table far away from him. He keeps giving me more, and I keep leaving it behind. Around number seven, he stops. I think he figured out that I wasn’t drinking it anyway. That was a huge lie. ''' '''It’s late into the night, and the crowds are still lingering. Looks like someone made an all-nighter here. Arwen keeps eyeing me. I can’t slip away, or I risk her finding out and slipping away herself to find me. I hug the edge of the crowd, but somehow I find myself in the midst of it all just a few minutes later. Dancing has started all around me, and the joyous spirit makes me want to join in like the may others about me. But that can change in an instant. I could tell that Legolas was at least partially drunken when he shouted for all to hear. “Fair sapphire-eyed lady of Rivendell! Leave not tonight as you wish to, and join me now in merriment and dance!” Is there more I could wish to avoid? I’m not quite sure why, but I decide to humor him. “O’ bow wielding elf of Mirkwood! A dance with this poisoned flower you wish to partake in? Then come, for your wish shall be granted!” We take each other’s hands and slowly we begin. Almost instinctively I know what dance he starts, and mirror his steps as we dance, cautiously picking up speed and followers. Soon, we have become the center of a large dance floor, and many elves have formed a large circle around us, clapping to the strong beat of the song. A few start to sing the refrain, and soon, the voices around us blend with the music and clapping as we freely dance. We begin to sing: Loss-thilivern! Loss-thilivern! O ladui clear! O rís haer i annui seas! ' '''O galad na ammen i amro- hi ' 'amid i ambar -o woven trees! ' 'Gilthoniel! O Elbereth! ' 'Clear are thui eyes a bright thui chwest! ' 'Loss-thilivern! Loss-thilivern! ' 'Mín glinn- na thee in a far dór haer i gaer. ' '''O elena i in i sunless ín With shining bor bui hen were sown, ''' '''In windui fields hi bright a clear Mín see cín mithril loth blown! ' '''O Elbereth! Gilthoniel! ' '''Mín still remember, mín who dorth In hi far dór beneath i trees, Thui gilgalad bo i annui seas. ' '''I do not sing the last word of the song, and neither does Legolas, nor the rest of the elves around us. We have fallen into a hushed whisper, and I know why. ' 'This not-so-drunken lovebird has locked me in a passionate kiss before the entire of Rivendell and beyond. ' 'I nearly take a step back after that public romantic moment. I look him squarely in the eye, smile, and gently wrap my arm around him and lean my head on his shoulder. He tilts his head just so, and I can feel his arm curling around me. Cheers and whoops from the elves about us, mostly directed to Legolas’ courage in his actions. But many still cry out for my passion, for it seems as though I looked like I could truly dance. With our hands entwined, we walk together out of the circle. Once the crowds die down, Legolas takes me aside slightly. ' '''“So you were sober?” I ask patiently. “I didn’t need to be drunk to ask you to dance.” he answers with a broad grin. “But in good spirit, neither were you.” “I wasn’t up to drink. I am very happy I was clean of alcohol tonight, or I might have had no sense and refused your invitation.” I smile. He probably had this planned out for me. ''' '''We walk together as the night drags on, but in higher spirits than before. Arwen is being followed by Aragorn again, and he’s more lost than a lovesick puppy. Knowing him, he’s been in love with her since pretty much forever. She’s in love, but she’s afraid it could throw things off balance if a mortal man wedded an immortal elf. It’s only too bad that Aragorn doesn’t have the courage Legolas does to tell her. I keep telling him to, but he all but refuses to start that conversation. Arwen won’t either. Yet another love story that seems to never complete. I happen to see Elrond and Lord Thranduil, Legolas’ father, talking with each other. They must have also noticed, since they nodded curtly. I do the same, and turn away just as Arwen runs up to me. “Finally lost Aragorn?” I smile. She nods breathlessly. “Somewhere in a crowd on the other side of the party. I hope I lost him for good. You know, everyone’s talking about you two.” I start to glare at Legolas, who reddens, raises both hands and says, “Caught red-handed in my attempts to confess my love to you.” Arwen isn’t helping by going on and on about the bets that have already been placed as to if and when our marriage will be. Hopefully, not soon. I have other things to attend to other than starting a family and inheriting the thrones of both Rivendell and Mirkwood. I am deep in thought. ' '''As Arwen and Legolas chat, immersing themselves in the usual happening of the elven cities, I dive into my mind, drawing my memories of Rivendell and its folk. So much has changed for the better here. It seems as though I could be welcomed again, and I could return to make a living here. But no. I once made a pledge to myself and the fellow Rangers to not immerse myself in the folk relations of my kind. I can no longer let myself accept the dislikes of the elves to the dwarves, or their indifference to mortals without resigning from my post as a senior Ranger. My life has truly improved with the Rangers for company. Their code of secrecy ensures that my identity and home’s location is forever unknown outside of the tight-knit circle, and their warmth and kindness has helped me get through harder times. Aragorn is a Ranger, and I would not have met him if I hadn't been one. He was a new Ranger when I happened to be orc hunting in his area. In a group of around 20, he wasn’t able to hit anything long distance. I approached him, and offered to help him begin to hunt. We still go hunting during the season together. We don’t win the awards presented to the best hits of the season, but we usually are among the highest. We all come from many backgrounds; boys ousted from their homes and hoping for anyone with a kindred spirit to associate with, heirs to ancient thrones, and commoners with a passion for orc hunting. I have been one for around 1,950 years, and I plan to stay as one until I take my final breath. ' '------' '''We leave the next morning as planned. Elrond wants to send at least one guard with me, but I refuse. Arwen is silent. I speak to her: “Arwen, I truly wish I could have come back earlier. I never should have left you.” She looks up, and silently hugs me. I wrap myself around her, and we stay this way for a few seconds. She lets go, and asks me to return again to visit. I agree. ' '''Legolas and I set off, and instead of flying on Mithroc’s swift hooves, I choose to ride slowly through the autumn’s air. We are silent most of the time. Just days into the quick journey, our paths continue when I decide to ride past home to visit the Galadhrim with Legolas. As we continue through the forest terrain, we talk about the beautiful gold of the leaves rippling through the breeze and littering the paths we walk. The light of the warm sun dapples the floor as our horses step through the fallen mosaic of color within the air. Autumns in the Misty Mountains are truly unparalleled. After we reach the towering crests of the mountains east of Rivendell, we decide our path from here. ' '''“Well, are we going to follow Anduin, the great river, to Lothlorien, or shall we continue through the mountains southwards and emerge near Khaza-dum?” I ask. “I’m not sure. They each have their likes and dislikes. But I am not yet sure to emerge near Khaza-dum. The area is still very dangerous, and I have terrible memories from the Fellowship. I have my reasons for disliking that pass.” Legolas looks out across the vast expanse of forest that is his home. ' '“I also went with you, Legolas. But you must remember that we all escaped unscathed, or perhaps improved in Gandalf’s case. We cannot let those terrible memories hold us away from our lives. But it will be a hard journey in either case. I feel that we shall arrive in better condition and perhaps with our horses alive if we follow Anduin.” I answer. We finally decide to descend from the peaks and raft the river to the golden woods below us. The night passes with no ill omen, and we begin to ride down the east side of the mountain in peace as the leaves drop and our horses sniff the chilly air for scents of others. The forests are below us, and we meet more travelers hurrying to reach their destinations afore the snow and ice of the mountains reach them. Many have traveled the wrong way (to their dismay) or have come too far. We stop to point these wandering wayfarers in the right direction. We see all kinds of folk, hobbits, dwarves, elves, all riding or walking to destinations all over Middle-Earth. As we exit the forests of Mirkwood, we talk about the small chances of seeing an Entwife wandering the forest, and their locations. After around a week’s travel, we reach the roaring banks of the great river. ' '“The river is strong, perhaps from the rains in the mountains northwards.” Legolas has to shout above the crashing thunder of Anduin. “You are right. Perhaps we should wait till we are closer to Lorien to cross?” I yell. “No, the current will be stronger farther downward as other rivers join it. We must cross now, or the current will sweep us away in Lorien.” The horses are reluctant, but with my lead Mithroc takes the first steps into the waters. He snorts, a sign of worry, but continues with my coaxing voice as his guard. I calm the waters trying to push us down the river by pushing against the current, and out of the corner of my eye I see Legolas doing the same. His horse, Asfaloth, tries to backup to reach the river, but Legolas’ firm grip keeps him pushing forward. By the time we manage to ford the river, we are all soaked to the bone and shivering from the gusty winds that have picked up. I draw the water out our cloaks and clothing to help us cope with the cold, but only after a fire is started to we truly start to warm up. We decide to stay the night in a small ringlet of trees, and set up camp just as night falls. ' '''As the night falls like a cascading river over the star-studded sky, we sing and laugh next to the flickering fire’s tongues gently send sparks and embers floating through the breeze. ' '''I'm sorry, but the story isn't complete yet. Updates coming in fast! Until we meet again, Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima! (talk) 21:41, February 28, 2019 (UTC) Category:Blog posts